


easy come

by fyborg23



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, M/M, Underage Sex, mean boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 15:07:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10947033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyborg23/pseuds/fyborg23
Summary: two mean swiss boys making time.





	easy come

**Author's Note:**

> notes: a dear has been encouraging me to do this for at least 2 months. welcome to the second circle of hell, dear readers. cross-posted from my tumblr.   
>    
>  **warning for possible underage, depending on where you're at and how well you want to do the math, and yannick weber**  
> 

All ice rinks have a smell.

This one, all way up at the ass-end of Bern-- smells like sharp metal and cement dust and teenage-boy hair gel. Yannick rubs his own hair like he fucking needs to neaten up. He teases apart a tangle with the jagged edge of his thumbnail before rubbing the leftover oil against his Adidas sweatpants.

Yannick paces around the rink more, looking up at the small flights of stairs leading out to the doors to _freedom_ , looking for anyone else in this fucking creep rink, bouncing on his toes for energy and all of that shit–

Yannick jerks his head down at the square face of his watch, the arms ticking towards ten on a freaking _Sunday morning_. He regrets not getting more info than a promise of a fuck.

To be precise: Yannick’s fake, not-at-all evil namesake/fuckbuddy Yannick Josi didn’t so much ask him to come all the way up to Bern as much as ordered him. Yannick Josi may be a sure thing, with a mouth that can suck _anything_ – but that doesn’t mean Yannick has to wait around a strange-half lit rink for his dumb kid brother so he can see whether he’s actually good enough for real hockey with real men. Knowing Yannick Josi, this kid is going to be spindly until he gets unexpectedly slow and has to bow out before wingers start _hoping_ to see him on the ice.

AKA: Not ready for prime time.

_No cock is worth this_ , Yannick thinks, on the verge of walking up the stairs and out of the door until he hears “You Weber?” getting shouted like he was born in a barn.

Yannick’s foot freezes on the stairs. He turns around to see the kid at the middle of center ice, with a stick in his hand and a helmet strap dangling from his jaw. Yannick walks up to the glass, and smirks, “You Josi the lesser?”

That makes the kid narrow his eyes, but he forces on a smile and says, “Hanging around my loser big brother?”

“Guess so. Going to skate?” Yannick can see why scouts like being scouts, getting off on watching barely-legal guys try to be at their _peak_ and not getting called creeps for it. The kid even has the gall to _glide_ towards the glass, like he’s fucking floating, and sweet jealously surges in Yannick’s guts as he watches him come to a stop without carving a notch in the ice.

“You’re not going to?” he asks Yannick, and then pauses, as his lips curl up, “Unless you’re too heavy to skate, Weber.” The kid’s got a younger sibling’s nose for soft underbellies, for sore spots, and the teeth to nibble.

Yannick grits his teeth in a smile, and shoves his skates on, lacing them as tight as he wants to wrap his fingers around the kid’s skinny neck. He promises himself a light check against the boards. Just to show the kid how real men play. He slips onto the ice, dragging his stick behind him, and circles around the kid. For someone named Roman he’s living up to it, almost pretty and _patrician_ with that nose he shares with Yannick Josi, his eyes some shade between green and panty-creaming.

Roman’s even taller than Yannick Josi right now. The kid can skate. Maybe can get past the mysterious “six foot” mark these North Americans get chubbed up in their pants about. Yannick taps his stick against the ice, says, “You play the D?”

Roman rolls his eyes, “Yes, I play _the D_ , what the fuck. You going to shoot me the puck or no?”

Yannick jerks the puck away from Roman’s stick, and jets down the ice, his thighs burning underneath his sweatpants. The back of his neck tingles, like it always does when a defense-man catches up. Yannick slaps the puck away before Roman can whack his stick against his own. He only has enough breath to smirk at the annoyance on Roman’s face before he has to churn up ice after those stupid long strides, watching the puck bounce on the ice under Roman’s stick.

Roman shoots, a rough shovel into the goal, and scores. He turns on a fucking franc, and presses both of his gloves atop his stick knob, barely breathing hard. His eyes are still some shade between green and panty-creaming. Fuck that kid.

If Roman didn’t have the helmet on he’d so totally do the Mean Girl Hair toss, and thinking that makes Yannick coast to a stop against the glass with a smirk he has to hide with his glove. He makes himself shrug, “So you can shoot. Yay.”

Yannick sees the pout that doesn’t go any further from the corners of those pretty lips, and wonders just how warm Hell would be. Fucking the kid brother of a fuckbuddy is. Bad? Right? Yannick’s a little fuzzy on the whole thing. He skates closer, notes carefully that he easily has 10 kilos on the kid, and licks his lips.

“Roman, come on. You know how nasty that little ice can get.”

“Like you know,” Roman scoffs, looking Yannick over, “Excuse me, who do you play with now? The _Kitchener_ Rangers? I don’t really care if you’re not going to get me ahead–”

Yannick shoves Roman up against the glass, the top panel shaking as Roman tries to shrug Yannick’s arms off his neck. He leans in close enough to see the vivid pink flush creep up Roman’s neck, and says, “Can’t take a check, can you, pretty kid?”

Roman clenches his jaw, and Yannick grins harder in response, “Lot of fuckers out there, all of them like me, wanting to smash you up, and that’s all you can do? Just pout? Pouty-pout,” he sticks his lower lip, pitches his voice higher, “Oh no, I can’t be physical–”

“Fuck you,” Roman snarls, panting through his nose. Yannick laughs, “Is that all? You’re a pretty kid, Roman. You get a lot of comments, hm? Think it’s going to be any better when you make it to the big show?”

The stiff silence Roman sends out is just as good as a _no_ in Yannick’s book. Yannick gently shoves him up against the glass, “Maybe you just need to toughen up your mental game. There’s a reason Ds take longer to develop.”

Roman gives him an considering look, like this is the first intelligent thing he’s said all morning. Which is bullshit. Yannick wakes up with all sort of intelligent shit. So much. Roman wouldn’t even get it. Yannick smirks, “Meanness is a talent, kid. I like your potential.” He likes how the kid doesn’t look away, and presses him harder against the glass, enough that his helmet bounces gently off it, “You can take it.”

“I can give it,” Roman snarls, and oh, it’s almost cute. Yannick raises an eyebrow, drawls, “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

“Yeah? You fucking _plank_ ,” Roman shoves Yannick away, “If I wanted to see some guy jerk himself off I could have looked in the mirror instead of coming down to this rink.” He strides across the ice to the tunnel, and Yannick catches up a lot less easily than he would’ve like, tugging on Roman’s thin sweatshirt before he gets onto the cement.

Roman hisses through his teeth, and for a heartbeat, Yannick almost feels like he’s in _The O.C._ as he smirks and shoves the helmet off Roman’s head. Roman jerks away, almost slipping on the cement before he regains his balance, tries to clamp his hair down against the halo of spots across his forehead. Yannick watches the thick waves of hair slip through Roman’s fingers, showing angry red spots there and there where Roman apparently gave up self-control and dragged a nail across.

Yannick says, “Ok, you’re not so pretty now.”

“Fuck off,” Roman says, in English, through his puppy-like fingers. Yannick grins, shoves Roman towards the sign that says _Showers_ , “Nah, you don’t. You want to develop your mental game. Learn how to take insults.”

“Not off the ice,” Roman sulks, draping himself against the wall.

Thank god for bad lighting, because now Yannick can’t see the embarrassing pimples on that five-head. Yannick slides his hand up Roman’s thigh, pausing to check the thickness of it with the meat of his fingers, and says, “You Josi boys are so easy.”

Roman freezes.

“What, _jealous_?” Yannick taunts. Roman shoots him a hot glare, his eyes definitely panty-creaming, and oh, the boys over in North America are going to eat him alive.

Unless Yannick gets there first.

He drags his hand up Roman’s thigh, and smiles when he finds how hard Roman is. Roman swallows, juts his chin out defiantly, and Yannick only has to cup that cock through those sweats to make Roman’s long, girly eyelashes flutter. Yannick scrapes his mouth across Roman’s, “Know how to suck off a _man_ , Josi?”

Roman bites down on Yannick’s lip, hard enough to draw a little blood, rubbing himself off against Yannick’s palm, breathing harder. Yannick laughs through the thin stream of blood, “Not like _that_ , kid,” and shoves him onto the locker room floor.

Yannick nods at Roman’s skates, at Roman’s clothes, “Take them off.” Roman grits out a smile, and yanks his skates off before he checks himself and gently lays the skates in their case. Yannick gets undressed faster than the kid, but all that means is that he gets the water warm, waiting for Roman to find his balls and to fucking come in.

The kid does, with only a washcloth and nothing hiding that rat face. Yannick grins as he leans against the tiles, feeling the warm water drip down his back and says, “Come closer, _Roman_.”

“What do I even get,” Roman says, stepping around an old puddle. Yannick considers saying, _The pleasure of sucking me off_ , considers better, smiles instead, “A chance to come into something besides those rosy palms of yours.”

Roman flushes, with both anger and embarrassment, as he presses himself into the spray with fierce determination. Yannick slides a hand down Roman’s back, pressing down on the divots his rubs make before he presses a thigh up between Roman’s thighs, the only sturdy-looking part of him. Roman shivers, presses himself closer, his hairless chest bumping against the sparse hair Yannick has on his–

Yannick almost smiles when he pushes Roman down on his knees.

The tile clanks against Roman’s knees, and he looks up at Yannick with a _dare_ in his eyes. Shoving his cock against Roman’s lips is just as easy as he hoped, watching Roman try to wrap his lips around the cockhead, his pink tongue slipping out enough to make Yannick tangle his hand in Roman’s wet hair. Roman shakes, and Yannick breathes, “It’s not just the tip, come on, haven’t you seen porn?”

Yannick gets a little harder in Roman’s mouth, watching those eyes-- are they blue? green?-- glare up at him as his own cock pushes that rat face a little out of shape.

He feels even bigger, more powerful as Roman tries to figure out what to do with his hands before he rests them on the top of his thighs, framing his more-than half-hard cock. Yannick rubs himself against Roman’s tongue, laughs when Roman sucks harder, like it’d hurt, “Aw, you should be happy, your rat face looks so much better with a cock in it–”

He presses down on his cock through Roman’s cheek, “Even if you do look like a chipmunk now,” shoves himself in more when Roman tries to get enough breath to protest. Feeling Roman’s teeth scrape against him doesn’t make Yannick go down even the slightest. Why would it? He’s watching Roman’s cock jerk in between thrusts he’s giving to that face, feeling those chapped lips brush against his cock as he tries to breathe around _Yannick_. Roman’s flushed down to his teeny little nipples, and if Yannick had more time to jerk them around he’d flick those nipples for sure, maybe see how good those thighs would feel around his cock. Yannick bites back a moan, his hands twitching against the tile before he pushes them against Roman’s hair.

Roman doesn’t pull off, keeps trying to swallow around Yannick and leaving so much spit Yannick thinks the shower isn’t clean enough for this kid.

“Yeah, just like I thought, all that mean-girl bullshit just hides how much you want a cock shoved in your mouth,” Yannick pants, twisting his hands in Roman’s hair, the gel catching on the pads of his fingers. It’s the hardest thing to _not_ just shove him up to his hip, to feel him gag around his cock–

Yannick likes repeats more than trying to recreate porn, and maybe jerking off on the kid’s face is just another way of recreating porn. Whatever. Facials are good for skin, right?

Roman swallows, looking like he wants to cry, and doesn’t look at Yannick before he gets to his feet. Yannick makes an _aht_ noise, pressing his face against Roman’s slick neck, “I promised you a little something, didn’t I, pretty rat?”

“Suck me off,” Roman manages, trying to be imperious, his throat sounding well-used. Yannick looks Roman’s cock over. Manageable. _Pretty_ , if you’re into smooth thighs, and Yannick smirks before he gets down onto his knees. The hard tile on his knees sucks, sure, but he can smell how _new_ Roman is, can almost taste the come in his mouth. One suck and the kid is done–

It takes four easy sucks, ones that make Yannick feel _tender_ with how easy blowing this Josi is, before Roman comes with a muffled moan against his arm.

Yannick saves him from braining him against the tile, holding him up against the tile with a firm hand on that ass, before Roman keeps spurting bitter come into his mouth. He doesn’t pull away to tell Roman how he needs to drink more water. _This time_ , and that thought makes Yannick spits on the tiles, lets the shower spray wash it down the drain, and gets up. Roman looks almost relaxed like this, and Yannick scrapes a thumbnail down his lip, “I guess I got what I came here for.”

Roman only blinks for a beat before he realizes what _exactly_ got Yannick to come up to Bern. Yannick taps Roman’s cheek lightly, winks, “See you at brunch, kid.”

Why get one bite at the apple if Yannick can get two?

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr!](http://hastybooks.tumblr.com)


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